


Squaring Up & Skating Through

by Creative_Cabbage



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Coming of Age, Family Bonding, Fluff, Future Fic, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Kid Fic, M/M, Not completed, Original Character(s), Probably mentions of mental illness, Romance, childhood insecurity, ongoing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 17:18:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16499507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creative_Cabbage/pseuds/Creative_Cabbage
Summary: Cora-Anne Larissa Bittle-Zimmermann has way too many names, and twice as many problems. Luckily, she's growing up with 2 doting dads, 2 adorable siblings, and a whole host of weird "Aunts" and "Uncles" who help to make life a little bit better.





	Squaring Up & Skating Through

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a tumblr post I made forever ago. https://www.tumblr.com/search/Zimbits+kids+headcannons
> 
> Enjoy! This is kind of my baby so it needs lots of love!

Cora-Anne Larissa Bittle was one hell of a kid. That’s what all her teachers and all her family members ended up saying about her. She was sharp as a tack, and skated better than her fathers at her age. She didn’t let anyone or anything get her down, she knew she was smarter than her peers and she used it against them. She was cocky.

It was a defense mechanism.

“Girls aren’t supposed to like hockey,” she was told at lunch one day, the boy pointing at her Providence Falconer’s shirt. “And they aren’t supposed to play it, either.”

She didn’t say anything, just stared him down while she worked through her PB&J, the shame and _disbelief_ ringing freshly in her ears. She was used to the teasing, it was just a part of school for her now. But it was behind her back, or it was in snide sharp comments about the clothes she decided to wear or her parents. Nobody had yet to have the gal to say anything hurtful to her face. 

She slammed the boy into the boards at practice. She knew it was against the rules, that she’d be kicked out, even before the Coach’s whistle blew to stop practice. Cora didn’t really care. Going home early was a treat, for her. She got the participation points and didn’t have to pretend to like her worst tormenters for an hour and a half. 

The only cost was Bitty and Dad’s disappointment. She had to endure the soft little sigh Bitty made when he saw her sitting out front the rink, instead of inside playing. And the sugary sweetness he always conjured when he was angry at his kids. 

She just smiled, shrugged, and gave him the usual line of crap.:“It was an accident ” as her guilt grew.

None of them believed it. Bitty sent her to the car, the Coach came out to give Bitty his fifth ‘final warning’. Nobody would actually kick her out of the sport - it looked to shady to kick the only girl off the team. Plus she had the whole 2 dads thing going for her.

She had to tell her parents. She _knew_ she did. It was an aching lump in the back of her throat that had her tossing and turning at night. Cora was being bullied and all the stupid “Zero Tolerance” videos urged her to “tell a trusted adult like a teacher or parent.” 

Today was different, though. After talking to the coach Bitty climbed in the car, but didn’t put the key into the ignition. He just sat there for a long moment, his hands on the steering wheel, and put his head down. 

The lump of guilt in Cora’s throat grew. 

“Sweetheart,” he said, and it wasn’t any of his angry-sugar. It was genuine concern. . “Is there something’ goin’ on with that team?” 

“Bits?” Cora asked. “Why- what?” 

“Are you havin’ any problems with the boys on that team?” He picked his head up and turned around to look at her. “You’re not in trouble. I just _need_ to know.” 

The lump was choking her. She wanted to tell him, had the right words on her tounge, but she couldn’t get enough air out to say them. She tried, and tried, and then the tears started leaking outof the corners of her eyes. 

“Yes,” she managed to croak. “For a - a long time now, Daddy.” And she _never_ called him Daddy. It was always “Bitty” or “Bits” to avoid confusion. But god, she needed the comfort of having her father there. 

“Oh baby,” and her hair was dampening from Bitty’s tears. “I could just _tell_ by the way that Coach defended those boys. _God._ ” He was really crying now. 

“I’m so sorry, Daddy. I’m _so so_ sorry.” She was crying too - from the relief of finally saying it. 

Bitty pulled back, combing the tear soaked hair out of her face. “You have _nothing_ to be sorry for, baby girl. Absolutely nothing.” 

“I should have told you sooner,” she sobbed. “I shouldn’t have checked those boys, or been disrespectful to my teachers.” 

Bitty didn’t say anything, just squeezed her tighter and pressed a kiss into her head. “You don’t have to worry about _anything_ anymore. Jack and I are going to do all the ass kicking for you now.” 

Cora giggled, wiping at her face with the sleeve of her shirt. “I’d like to see that,” she said. “And start with the boys on my hockey team?” 

“Oh, darlin. I think you’ve kicked their asses enough for one day. I’ll _never_ condone violence but hey. I think they kinda deserved it.” 

Cora laughed again. “They totally did.” 

“Don’t mess with the Bittle-Zimmermann’s,” Bitty said. “Or we’ll sick Cora on you.” 

Cora’s tears of relief had turned into gales of laughter. Relief was sweeping through her body, and she was _laughing_ because it felt so good. She wasn’t alone in this anymore. She had Bitty and she had Dad. 

And together they had a whole lot of ass kicking to do. 


End file.
